


Ink Romance

by Dollsofchaos



Category: Jrock
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-10
Updated: 2018-12-15
Packaged: 2019-09-15 14:34:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,105
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16935063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dollsofchaos/pseuds/Dollsofchaos
Summary: She thought that she had everything; her dream profession, loyal friends, an exciting life in Hollywood. What she didn't know, was that love could come in the most unexpected of times, and change one's perspective about what really matters in life.





	1. Introductions

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer:   
> I own nothing but my OCs & Distinked; I am borrowing a crap-ton of JRockers though.

# Ink Romance

### Chapter 1: Introductions

 

“Ow! What the hell bitch?!” a young man exclaimed.

I looked up from where I was working and glared at him. “Sir, I’m only gonna say this once: Swear at me again, and I will personally remove your ass from my shop.”

“You’ll finish this first right?” He asked, either not comprehending what I was saying, or thinking I would actually finish it and then kick him out without him paying. Either way, he was being stupid.

“Ha! Do it again, and you’ll have to find someone else to finish this, because I won’t work on someone who disrespects me like that,” I answered. “Now, are you going to let me get this done for the day or what?”

The young man relaxed and leaned back in the chair, looking very much like a reprimanded child.

“That’s better. Now, try to think of something else to get your mind off it,” I instructed.

“Easier said than done. I’m terrified of needles, and I didn’t know you used ones like that…”

“So, what… You thought tattoos magically appeared or were licked on by kittens?” I knew I was insulting him, but I didn’t care. Talking was the only thing getting his mind off of what I was doing.

“I didn’t know, but as long as I don’t cuss you out you’ll finish it?”

I fought the urge to roll my eyes at him. Kids these days were so dumb. “Yeah, keep the swearing to a zero, and you won’t have to find someone to finish this for you.”

He seemed a little relieved. “Ok good, you’re the best, and I want the bragging rights that come with telling my friends I was tattooed by you.”

“That’s all personal opinion and speculation. I’m sure a lot of people think Kat Von D is the best.”

Before the man could respond, another voice cut in. “Maybe so, but does Kat Von D tattoo the starts of Hollywood like you do?”

“Shut up Jared.” I smiled at him. “I’m sure she would tattoo more, as I know she does do some, if she were here. It just comes with the territory.”

Jared chuckled and sat in an empty chair, admiring the work-in-progress. “Though that is a possibility, it’s highly unlikely. Your 1,300+ clients come asking for you by name for a reason.”

“Whatever. How’s it going out front?”

“Business as usual, nothing spectacular, or even exciting for that matter. Keep trying to ask people if they want piercings, but noooo, they’re all here for you and Mac.”

“Okay, since you’re so bored you have to come and bug me, tell my next client I’m just about done here,” I stated, putting the finishing touches on my current client.

Jared nodded and left to get my next client ready.

“What about me? Mine’s not done!” the guy exclaimed.

“Look. The design you chose is gonna take a couple of sessions. We have to let this heal before we start working the color in, or they’ll bleed together and it’ll look like a rainbow threw up on you, especially with the way you keep squirming,” I said putting a cover on his new work. “Okay, follow me.”

The guy stood up and followed me up front to my receptionist. I told her the work he had done, and she told him how much it would be. After he paid, she handed him his receipt, and I handed him some papers.

“Those papers I gave you are instructions on how to care for that until it heals. Follow every set to the letter, and you’re tat won’t get infected. Understand?”

He nodded, took his info, and left. I laughed to myself at the slight look of panic on his face, and called my next client over.

We walked to my station at the back of the shop to find that Lynne’e had done her job as my assistant well. My equipment was sterilized and I had fresh needles and gloves all ready to go.

You’re probably wondering who I am. My name is Adriana Bustamante. I’m a 25 year-old tattoo artist by profession. I own my own tattoo shop, Distinked Tattoo and Body Piercing, on Hollywood Blvd in Los Angeles, California. I do a lot of the tattoos for the stars, because according to my clientele, I’m the best. My clientele is mainly made up of people who hear about my work solely by word of mouth, from other clients and my 2 older siblings who can’t help but run their mouths when asked about their art. I haven’t had to do hardly any advertising since I first opened up shop; my older brother, Sacha, has done a lot of advertising for me, as has his twin, my older sister, Eri. I have done all but one of my brother’s fifteen tattoos, and have done all 10 of my sister’s. Wherever my brother goes, and as a musician he goes all over the world with his band, he gets my name out. My sister travels with him, as she is his band’s stylist, so she sees more, and different, people than he does, she also spreads my name everywhere. I suppose they’re right though, not to brag or anything. I doubt my total of 100,000 clients come to see me due to my looks or personality, especially since I really can be a bitch. I don’t give out fashion tips, most of the stars my age look at my sense of fashion as something that they’re closet threw up, and I don’t give out diet plans, especially since I think they’re all nothing but skin and bones anyway. Given that, if they do come, it can only be for my skills. I don’t care for some of the people who come in here, but it’s money so I don’t complain

My staff here consists of: Jared- the 6’0” tall, trim but not overly skinny, tattooed, pierced, manager of Distinked and resident body piercer, Mac-the ex-body builder turned tattoo artist who’s been tattooing since before I was born, and only other artist here, Lynne’e-my personal assistant who was in charge of my schedule and anything else I needed, and Chrissy-the 5’9”, blue haired, Goth-punk biker at the register. I put her there because if you don’t pay your bill, she will fuck you up. But anyway, I had a client waiting.

“Have a seat Chris,” I said, sitting in my spot and getting my gloves on. “So, I hear that this is gonna be you last tat. What’s with that?”

Chris laughed and sat backwards in the chair, so his back was facing me. “Well Adri, my wife and I now have 6 kids, so we’re done.”

I smiled. Chris was one of only a small handful of clients I allow to call me Adri, and that’s only because he’s been my client since I started. I personally have tattooed plants and flowers representing all of his kids thus far on his back. Since he’s a business and family man, I can understand how he wouldn’t get anymore, or in places that could be considered unprofessional.

“Congrats on the new one! What’s the little one’s name?”

I could hear the laugh in his voice. “ Her name is Annalynn Leigh. Is there room for her back there? I’d like to add some bleeding heart flowers to the others.”

“Okie dokie, take off your shirt and I’ll see what I can do.”

Chris took off his shirt and leaned forward against the chair so I could look at his back.

“Hmmmmmm…. Okay, there is room right here along the side, and the perfect spot for them, considering they grow live ivy vines,” I said, indicated the area I was speaking of by pressing on it.

“That’ll be perfect.”

“Alright, get comfy. As you know, this’ll take a while,” I said. Chris just leaned his head forward on his arms on the back of the chair.

“So, how’s the little one doing? Are her older siblings totally spoiling her rotten?” I asked.

“Actually, they really aren’t,” Chris said almost sleepily. “Jason’s really stepped up to help us out with the other four.”

“That works then. At least you have one old enough to be able to help.”

“Yeah I guess,” Chris shrugged a bit.

“Chris, I like you and everything, but I’m gonna hafta ask you not to do that, or I’ll have to smack you. The last thing I want is for your last tattoo to be screwed up.”

“Sorry about that,” Chris said as he chuckled a bit.

“You’re fine, it would’ve just really, really sucked if this had been messed up.”

“Yeah, thanks for reminding me.”

“Not a problem.”

For the next 2 hours, Chris and I jabbered on about nothing and everything. And one very big something he was wondering about.

“So, Adri. Jason turns 18 next week, and he wants a tattoo done by you. Can you squeeze him in somewhere you think?”

I thought for a minute. “Not during the day I can’t. I’m booked solid all next week. I have a whole group of European and Asian tattoo artist students and apprentices coming to get inked by me. Sometime after hours I could though, that wouldn’t be a problem. Just let Chrissy know what day you’re bringing him by, and we’ll do it.”

“Wow, Europe and Asia huh? You really are hittin the big time. You don’t plan to leave do you?”

“Not any time soon, but you never know. Plans change. Anyway, I’m all through here, so you can go ahead and let Chrissy know it’s the usual, and I’ll see you sometime next week.” I said, putting a cover on.

“Alrighty, see you then. And thanks again, you seriously rock.”

“My pleasure. Have a good one!” After he left I took off my gloves and turned to my station. During the day, Lynne’e does a very good job keeping it clean like I like, but at the end of the day, I prefer cleaning and organizing everything myself. Chris was my last client, so I knew I had all the time I needed to clean up.

After I finished with my own section, I went out to the front to help Jared, Mac, Lynne’e, and Chrissy. I wasn’t really listening to their conversation, until they brought up an international tattoo convention being held in Tokyo. A convention where every country sends only their best, #1 artist. A convention, I currently held an invitation for. An invitation I hadn’t told them I’d received, as I knew they would make a big deal out if, and I hate it when they do that.

“So Adriana, what do you think of convention? You gonna try to go? It would be so much fun,” Chrissy asked.

“Yeah, this weekend actually,” I replied.

“Oh? How? You gonna try and get your brother or sister to sweet-talk the hotel staff into letting you in?” Jared asked. The only thing I don’t like about him, is his constant need to joke.

“No, I will get in on my own merits,” I replied with a glare. “Although, Sacha _would_ be much more successful than you, and Eri even more successful still.”

“Hey!” Jared exclaimed.

“She is right Jared. Sacha is a lot hotter and a lot more of a smooth talker than you are,” Chrissy stated. “Of course, he does have that indescribably sexy voice too. He could convince the straightest of straight guys to kiss him if he wanted to.”

“Ok ew. This is my brother we are talking about here,” I said, scrunching up my face. That was never a position I ever wanted to see my brother in, but I couldn’t say it wouldn’t happen. My brother’s nothing if not an entertainer. He knows what his fans want, and he’s willing to give it to them.

“Anyway, how are you going Adri?” Chrissy asked.

“Well, I have this.” I said walking into my office and getting the invitation off of the desk.

Everyone stared wide-eyed at it. “OMG! YOU HAVE AN INVITATION?!”

“Why didn’t you tell us?!” Chrissy shrieked. 

“Because she knew you would do that!” Lynne’e scowled. She wasn’t exactly best of friends with Chrissy. In fact, the two of them kind of hated each other. 

“You guys are always saying I’m the best. This just proves it,” I said, nonchalantly. “Besides, I also didn’t want to make a big deal out of this.”

“But it is a big deal, Adri!” Jared exclaimed. “Why didn’t you tell us you were officially going?”

“I kinda thought you would’ve come to that conclusion when I asked for the two weeks after next off, and started arranging to have my supplies shipped somewhere,” I said. “But I suppose I overestimated your intelligence.”

“Hey!” Jared exclaimed, making us all laugh.

“I’m proud of you Adri. I know you’ll do great. When are you leaving?” Mac asked.

“This Saturday. The convention begins on Monday, and by the time I get there it’ll be Sunday,” I answered. “I should probably call Sacha and Eri now though, so they have more than a day’s worth of notice, depending on who I am staying with.”

“Do that now so that we can say hi!” Chrissy shrieked again. 

“Stop with that horrific shrieking!! You are going to permanently damage our ears that way!” Lynne’e exclaimed.

“Enough, both of you. Both of you relax, and get on opposite sides of me…,” I scolded, rolling my eyes. I pulled out my cell phone and dialed my brother’s number first, putting the phone on speaker.

_“Hello…?”_ a groggy voice greeted. 

“Hey bro, did I wake you?”

_“Yes.”_

“What time is it there?”

There was some rustling and a slight groan from Sacha before he answered. _“It’s 6am, and I literally just got to bed an hour ago; what do you want, Adri?”_

“That was rude, Sacha,” Chrissy stated. 

_“Fuck off Chrissy,”_ You could hear the eye-roll in his voice. _“Seriously, Adri, what do you want? I want, and need, to go back to bed.”_

“Sorry I’m gonna be in Tokyo for a week starting this coming Saturday, Sunday for you, and I was wondering if I could stay with you while I was there.”

_“And if I say no?”_

“I’ll call Eri and ask her,” I shrugged, even though he couldn’t see me. 

Sacha chuckled. _“That won’t get you anywhere. Eri and I live together. “_

“You guys live together? I thought you both enjoyed being on your own.”

_“It’s cheaper. While we can afford it, and do enjoy our solitude sometimes, $4500/mo on our own is a but much, especially when we know we can live together. Unfortunately, as much as I would love to have you stay with us, Eri and I will be out of town working for most of the time you’re there. We’ll be back on Thursday, so you’re welcome after then, but we are working this weekend; my band is playing in a music festival. Whatever you decide, I’m going back to bed now.”_

“Oh, I see. Okay then, no worries. I’ll just stay at the hotel the convention is being held at. Thanks anyway, sleep well.”

_“Bye.”_

I had to smile as I hung up the phone. I really did miss my siblings. 

“Is he always that rude?” Jared questioned. 

“Only when someone wakes him up,” I shrugged. “I keep forgetting that you’ve never met him, but he’s actually really cool. He just really hates being woken up, and I forgot about the time difference between here and Tokyo.”

“Who’s older? You or him?” Jared asked. 

“Actually, he and Eri are older. They’re twins and 2 years older than me,” I answered. “But I have 1 brother older than them, and 4 younger siblings.”

“Damn, there’s a lot of you guys,” Chrissy commented. 

“Yeah, my dad comes from a big family and my mom always wanted one, so here we are,” I replied. 

“So, Adri, you’ll be gone for two weeks? The convention is only a week long," Chrissy commented.

“True, but I’m going to need another week to get over the jet lag I’ll be sure to get coming back,” I replied. “It’s not just like going into another time zone, I’ll be crossing the international date line.”

“You’ll have so much fun, and make us all so proud! You’ll do 100 tattoos I’ll bet!” Chrissy squealed in excitement.

“I dunno about that. She may have to prove herself first,” Jared responded.

“I doubt that. She wouldn’t be there if she wasn’t the best,” Chrissy disagreed.

“Actually Chrissy, I’m inclined to agree with Jared. I may have to prove myself first. I don’t know how many of the artists there are female, but I can just about guarantee that most of them are male,” I said.

“But why should you have to prove yourself just because you’re a girl? That’s not fair!” Chrissy cried.

“I know, but did you have to prove yourself to the biker group you belong to? Biking and tattoo artistry are predominantly male centered. However, as you know, I love a challenge, especially when it involves something I love. Like being a tattoo artist.”

“Wow… You’re kinda crazy. You know that right?” Jared asked.

I smirked. “Yes, I do. And it’s for that reason I’m so good at what I do.”

“You’ll prove yourself 100 times over before that week ends,” Mac commented.

“Of course she will! She’s the best!” Jared exclaimed.

I really couldn’t wait to go to Tokyo, and show the world’s best what I can do.

\----------------------------------- _In Tokyo_ \------------------------------------------

“Did I hear your phone at 6 this morning?” Eri asked, handing Sacha a cup of coffee as he came into the kitchen. 

“Ugh, yes,” Sacha groaned, recalling the irritation of being woken up. “It was Adri calling to see if she could stay with us for a while.”

“She’s coming to Tokyo? Why?”

“She didn’t say, but I assume it’s due to the tattoo convention coming next week.”

“That would make sense. Hopefully we’ll get to see her when we get back, and in return, hopefully she’ll come to the Ongaku-sai next weekend.”

“That would be cool. It’s been a long time since she’s seen me perform, and with your new designs, it’ll be epic. Too bad your little lover-boy and his band are on vacation and their management decided that they won’t participate in the Ongaku-sai; she won’t get to see them perform

Eri smacked Sacha’s arm. “Stop calling him short! Just cuz you’re a fucking giant of a person.”

“He’s shorter than you, Eri.”

“I may not be 6’3” like you, but 5’8” isn’t short,” Eri stated, sticking her tongue out at him. “It’s a good thing he’s your friend too, otherwise he’d be put off by how much of an asshole you can be.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Sacha shrugged. “He can take it.”

“Doesn’t mean he should have to, especially from you, his girlfriend’s twin. Jerk.”

“Don’t be like that, he knows he’s one of my best friends. There’s only love behind the shit I give him, and that he returns to me full force, and that I couldn’t be happier that you two are together.”

“You’re still a jerk.”

“Of course I am. I’m _your twin_ afterall.”


	2. The Start of the Expo

I couldn't believe that I was at the Narita Airport in Japan. The flight had been so long that I often questioned whether there'd ever be an end. Upon my arrival I was greeted by a middled aged woman who had printed my name on a poster. She was supposed to be my escort to the hotel and later to the event. Her name was Tanako and I made sure to add -san at the end because I knew that much was respectful. I kinda didn't like the idea of having a sitter but I suppose it was for the best. I didn't know Japanese well and the last thing that I wanted was to get lost and make an idiot out of myself. I was representing America and women; that kind of error would be bad. Tanako-san was friendly and spoke English well. She was dressed in a business suit which was kinda funny considering it was a tattoo expo.

After dealing with customs we went out to take the van that was waiting for us at the curb. I was so excited to be on my way and see if Tokyo was as amazing as I had been told. The drive to the city was longer than I expected and my ass was so resented from all the sitting I had been doing. My patience was rewarded when I saw the city come into view in the distance.

The skyscrapers were taller than even some in L.A. and some of them had bright billboards on them, advertising things that I couldn't read. I admit it was a little disconcerting being in a city where I could easily get lost. It was then that I felt some relief that Tanako-san was with me. I didn't know her though which made me feel uneasy. I hated having to rely on people who could easily mislead me somewhere that I wasn't supposed to go. I was naturally distrustful of strangers and they often had to prove themselves to me before they gained my trust. Still, all I could do was sit back and relax. I reflected back on the past week. It had gone by in such a blur with all the clients that had come in. Good thing that the majority of them wanted small tattoos with my shop name, but still-- it was stressing. Then Jason had come in to get his first tattoo, just as I'd promised I'd do.

I sighed.

Tanako-san asked me if I was fine and I nodded, kinda tired to even talk. She probably understood I was exhausted and suffering from jet lag. When we arrived at the hotel, Tanako-san went ahead of me to check me in at the front desk. It was kinda nice to not have to worry about such things actually. It was a Western style hotel for which I was actually thankful. Maybe another time I'd come back and try something more traditional but right now I was tired and grateful for the familiarity. The bell boy took my luggage up to my room and Tanako-san gave me her card and a schedule of the events. I was to call her if I needed anything. She explained the hotel staff was mostly bilingual so I wouldn't have communication issues there. The expo would be at the hotel in the courtyard and one of the pavilions. It was good that everything was all in one place. I could see many other tattoo artist roaming the lobby with their escorts.

Good thing we were all allowed to rest the evening before the event kicked off in the morning. And I was tired enough to fall asleep like a rock.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------

Somewhere in Tokyo.

Her heels clicked on the tile floor as she slipped through the crowd and walked towards the bar. There were only a few people sitting but her query was the guy in the yellow shirt. She hated that he had to pick such a scandalous color. She slipped her body on the empty stool to his left and sighed. This wasn't such a well known club or at least on frequented by high profile residents of Tokyo but it was crowded enough to make her feel uncomfortable.

"Aiyumi," the man nodded in greeting. He passed a manila envelope to her across the bar table. "You know I can get fired for this right?"

She shot him a coy look and smiled, "I'm paying you enough."

He looked her over. She was pretty. Her petite frame was curvy and looked completely appetizing in that small black dressed which hugged her curves. Her long, wavy hair was dyed a strawberry blond. Her perfectly pouty lips were painted in a glossy coral and her eyes were lined making them appear larger. She looked cute, almost childlike, if it weren't for that devilish glint in her brown eyes.

"Maybe I want a little more." His pinky finger brushed her wrist. "It's getting riskier each time. The coincidences are starting to catch their attention."

Aiyumi chuckled. Flirtatiously, she rubbed her leg against his like a feline did its tail. This only seemed to ignite the passion in the man's eyes. He had wanted her since he'd seen her, she knew. It wasn't that he would be a bad lay. He was attractive and had brains.

"If I make a good catch with these," she waved the envelope. "You'll get what you want."

"He'll be at the expo tomorrow, the schedule is there... and he hasn't been too happy lately-- with you following his trail."

Aiyumi smirked, "It's only a matter of time before he falls into my trap."

He grinned mischievously, "And I get my reward."

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The next morning I put on the badge that Tanako-san had given me-- my identification and pass to the convention-- and headed downstairs. The first day I would be stationed in the courtyard. Though it wasn't open air, the roof was made of glass and made it seem so; it was kinda nice and from the tattoo artists who had already set up their displays, I could tell the best had been put there. I felt a sense of pride to be amongst so many talented people. I had to prove that I deserved to be there just as much as anyone. Who would've guessed that this place was so freaking huge! I’d never seen such a large space inside a hotel, with so many tattoo artists in one place. There was literally one from every country.

“Wow,” was all I could say.

Shaking myself out of my stupor, I walked over to the registration table to sign my name on the attendees list. There was a bit of a line so I looked at the many beautiful flags while I waited. I hadn't noticed the line had moved forward until the guy behind me shoved me. I guess it was his way of letting me know the line had moved and I stumbled a bit. I gave myself a minute to compose myself, before I turned and glared at the man.

“Do you have a problem?” He said in a French accent.

“Touch me again and that hand is mine.” I warned.

“Oh, tough talk from such a small girl. I would very much enjoy you trying to prove it.” He replied. Who was he calling small? I’m 5'7" for crying out loud! But maybe just compared to his six plus feet I am smaller.

“If this was any other place, you had bet your ass I would take you down. However, I don’t feel like getting escorted out by security.” I said, walking forward.

Finally, after about 20 minutes of listening to the French guy behind me bitch and complain, it was finally my turn in the line.

“Hello! Welcome to the International Convention. Which country are you representing?” a woman in a suit asked, in heavily accented, but clear, English.

“United States of America.” I replied.

“Oh, you must be Adriana. Welcome to Tokyo. If you take a right after you leave this table and walk down about 5 booths you’ll see your station. You’re situated between Canada and Mexico.”

I nodded my head in acknowledgment. “Thank you. I appreciate that. Do you know if my supplies have been delivered?”

“Yes ma’am. They were just delivered about an hour ago, ready to be set up however you like.”

“Thank you so much.” I signed my name on the sheet and started walking in the direction she had pointed me. Despite the French man’s comments, I was so stoked to be here.

When I got to my booth, I saw that my chair and machine were already set up where I liked them, all I had to do was set out my designs. I looked around trying to decide what I wanted to set up first. I finally decided on setting up my designs. That way, all I had to do when I came in tomorrow was plug in my machine, and I’d be ready to go. I had been happy in my own little world when I sensed a presence behind me. I turned around to find the Frenchman. I got the very distinct feeling that he was gonna be a jackass to me the whole time.

“Can I help you?” I asked, irritated.

“I must say that I’m genuinely surprised, and find it hard to believe that you’re the best your country has to offer.”

“Oh, and why’s that?” I asked, teeth clenched, fighting my instincts to knock this guy flat on his ass.

“Because you have to be the most rude, disrespectful woman I’ve ever met!” He exclaimed. I could already tell he had a flair for the dramatic.

I took a deep breath and went back to what I was doing.. “That’s not disrespect, that’s not taking any shit from anyone, regardless of who they are. Now fuck off.”

“Oh my god, you are such a vulgar woman!” he shrieked, and I had to keep myself from laughing. It was at that moment, that I realized his problem.

“Whatever, back off and get outta my booth.” I snapped at him. Intimidated by me or not, he still needed to stay away.

“Fine, but you’re going to have to have a lot more than just a smart-ass attitude to get people to respect you here.”

“Guess what?” I said getting up into his face. “I happily take on the challenge.”

“You’ll be sorry little girl.”

“We’ll see. Now back your ass away from my stuff.”

Without another word, the Frenchman went back to his own booth, and I was able to continue in peace.

After a relatively uneventful two hours, I sighed. My stuff was ready and each booth had their own security guard to protect them. I was amazed that they would hire enough guards to each artist, but since their reputation was on the line, they had to protect their participants. It was easy for a customer to get bitchy because a design could turn out how they hadn't expected and in such an event, security was there and ready to throw them out. Can’t have a lawsuit on their hands now can they?

I looked at my watch to see that it was 5:00. I decided that I was gonna get some food. I told the guard, "I'm going to dinner and calling it a day, thank you for your work today."

I locked up my booth, grabbed my purse, and walked outside, trying to decide where I wanted to go for food, as my stomach made itself known. After weighing the probability of my getting lost against the ease of ordering room service at the hotel, I opted for room service. I turned around to head back inside the hotel and smacked straight into someone, knocking me to the ground. I would've tackled his ass too but four pairs of hands caught my offender.

"You should really watch where you're walking," the guy said. He didn't sound mad but he definitely wasn't happy either.

I however, was quite upset. I was tired, hungry, and this guy had just accused me of running into him, when all I did was turn around!

“Me?" I raged, "All I did was turn around! I’ve been standing in this one spot for five minutes! You’re the one who ran into me!”

The guy and his friends looked a little shocked, like they weren’t expecting me to argue or something.

“What?" He protested, "I was just walking then you turned around and knocked into me!”

“How the hell could I have run into you when I was standing still? If memory serves that last thing I did before being knocked to the ground was turning. You ran into me so why can't you accept that?"

"I don't know how you did it but somehow you managed. 'Cause I was just minding my business here and then the next thing I know I was being caught by my friends because you ran into me." I could tell that he was getting pissed, by the way he was standing. He was wearing a pair of skinny jeans, a zip up hoodie with some Japanese writing I couldn’t read, and black converse. His blonde hair was kinda going everywhere. I couldn’t tell what color his eyes were, as he was standing too far away, but he was one of the few Japanese men I’d seen who had facial hair, in the form of a small goatee. I can’t say it looked bad, but it was definitely different. His whole stance screamed, ‘I’m getting mad don’t piss me off anymore!’

I hate being wrong, especially when I know I’m right, and I’m not one to just easily let it go. I had tolerated enough bull shit from the Frenchman to keep taking more bullying from this punk.

“I did not! I was just standing there! The only movement I made was this," I did the turning motion again, to show him. "And I never got the chance to leave because you came along and knocked me down. This is all you man."

I saw one of his friends lean over and whisper something in his ear. I could see in his eyes that he was still pissed, but his face agreed with whatever his friend said.

“Just watch where you’re walking," he said as he turned to leave with them.

“Whatever, fuck you.” I replied, and I saw him stiffen. I couldn’t help but smirk as I started walking away. I checked over my shoulder just in time to see him glare at me. He was beyond livid. But then why should I care? I wasn’t ever gonna see him again.

After a quick dinner and a long, hot shower, I collapsed on the bed, utterly exhausted.

**THE NEXT MORNING...**

BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. BE-

Groaning, I shut off my alarm. I was not a morning person, and being a completely different time zone was really screwing with my internal clock

“Well, if I’m gonna make it there on time, I had better get up... Ugh. Mornings. They should be illegal...” I muttered to myself.

Dragging my butt outta bed, I went over to my suitcase. After much debate, I decided on wearing a black, form-fitting, halter tank with my shop logo in white on the front and back of it, that showed off the angel wing tattoos I had on my shoulders and the quarter sleeve tattoo I had on my right arm. I chose my dark skinny jeans, and my black leather, mid-calf, cherry blossom embroidered Docs. From the outside pocket of my suitcase I grabbed a stack of black, white, and pink rubber bracelets which I placed on my right wrist, and also my watch and a bunch of silver and black studded bracelets which went on my left. Both sets went halfway up my forearms.

I quickly brushed and french-braided my hair, so it would stay out of my way, and started on my makeup. I did black liner and mascara, and black eyeshadow that lightened to white over my brow bone. A lot of people thought I was Goth, but the actual fact of the matter was that I just liked black.

Satisfied with my appearance, I grabbed my US ID, my registration ID and papers, my credit card, and my hotel key, before heading downstairs. I was surprised to see that I was still set up at the courtyard, but mostly annoyed because that meant that everyone else got the same spots from yesterday and that would include the Frenchman. I sighed in resignation.

I busied myself by unlocking my booth cover and setting up yet again, hoping that this time more people would flow to the courtyard. I plugged in my machine, set out my inks and pretty much ensured that everything looked as sterile as it was. I used fresh needles on all clients, had enough gloves to tattoo two hundred people, and was just needing brave souls to come by.

The Canadian representative came over to me, "I know why we didn't get enough people out here yesterday."

I wasn't much for gossip but it did interest me. I leaned over to him, "Yeah?"

The guy nodded. "Apparently there was a scuffle between some celebrity and a reporter. The issue happened at the entrance to here and people kind of didn't wanna risk it."

Well, at least it wasn't because people didn't see my worth.

"Today they're much more careful and opened a second door," he pointed behind us, "So we should get working."

"That's great."

He gave me a thumbs up and went to his booth. As I was looking over everything, I heard the PA system telling everyone, in every language, that the convention would start in two minutes.

I smirked, ready and raring to go. Before I knew it, the walkways had filled up and people were looking over my designs. I sat there as patiently as I could, waiting for someone to ask for something.

I sat for about half an hour without anyone coming my way. I watched the Frenchman do tattoo after tattoo. It didn't really bother me until a very prominent Chinese martial arts actor requested one. I was just about ready to throw the bottle of water that I was holding at him. I stood up from where I was sitting, so I wouldn’t have to watch him, and walked around my little booth, straightening things that looked crooked to me.

I was at the back wall looking at one of the hanging designs, deciding it wasn’t quite straight, but every time I straightened it, it still didn’t look right.

“Try a little to the left.” I heard a voice say. I didn't bother to turn around because the design was driving me nuts and I just had to set it straight. Taking the advice offered I moved it ever so slightly to the left.

“Perfect.”

“Thank you so--” As I turned around and came face to face with the guy who ran into me last night, my sentence died off. We both froze in shock.

“What. The. Fuck?” we both said in unison.

And here I thought I’d never see him again…

============================Elsewhere==============================

“Sacha, come on, would you please just follow instructions?” Hoshino complained. 

Sacha looked over his shoulder at the bassist. “I’m trying, honestly, but this is all so ridiculous. The makeup, the outfits, the poses…. It’s all so very not ‘Oath of Blood’. We aren’t some sort of pop band where this is all the norm. I can’t focus with this utter insanity.”

“Sacha! Hoshino! Stop talking and resume your poses!” Minomu called from behind the photographer. 

“But Manager, I can’t, in good conscious, do this! This just isn’t who we are or what we do,” Sacha argued.

“Get used to it, because it is now,” Minomu stated. 

“Whoa, hold on,” Sacha said, completely breaking formation. “What do you mean ‘it is now’?”

“The deal went through. We’re under a new contract with a new, mainstream, company, and they’ve dictated a complete overhaul of Oath of Blood, starting with this shoot, to be unveiled at the Ongaku-sai,” Minomu replied. “No more is Oath of Blood about the dark and depressing side of life, you are now about the light, happier side. No more of the following: drop-tuning, bass-heavy songs, screaming, or growling. Clean vocals, and clean vocals ONLY. You are pop-rock stars now, time to act like it.”

“When the hell was this decided?! We talked about a new contract with a new company, but nothing was sure!” Sacha exclaimed, angrily.

“Sacha, you were the only one who wasn’t on board, and the deal needed majority vote and signatures,” Minomu stated. “We got them and the deal went through. This is how things are now.”

“I didn’t agree to this,” Sacha seethed. 

“By being a member of this band, you agree,” Minomu said. “Now, get back to your spot and resume your pose.”

“When did this happen, and why was I not told before?!” Sacha demanded. “I started this fucking band. There’s no way I’d agree to this heresy!”

“I can’t believe you guys would go behind Sacha’s back like that, and not even tell him,” Eri commented. “That’s really low, even for you guys.”

“If he doesn’t like it, he can quit,” Hoshino stated, exasperatedly. “Can we please get moving.”

“He shouldn’t have to quit! You shouldn’t have-” Eri exclaimed, before being interrupted. 

“Eri, it’s fine,” Sacha glared. “If this is really what you want to do, then have at it. Make part of your ‘overhaul’ be a new vocalist too, I’m out. Keep the name though, you might be able to get new fans with it after you alienate all of our current ones.”

As Sacha walked away, Eri sprinted to catch up to him. “Find yourselves a new stylist while you’re at it, I refuse to work with assholes who would do that to the person who tog them where they are.”

Hoshino shrugged. “We don’t need either one of you. We can make it without you.”

“Yeah, we’ll see about that,” Sacha threw over his shoulder. 

“Sacha, we’re going to have to exchange our tickets for earlier flights if we want to go home,” Eri commented. 

Sacha shrugged. “I dunno, I think we should stay another day or two. We’ve never been to Seoul before, we can be tourists.”

“Really? You want to be a tourist for a couple of days when our sister is in Tokyo? And we haven’t seen her in years?” Eri smirked, putting her hands on her hips.

“Ugh, I guess you’re right. She’d want to see us, and I want to see her work too. Maybe if she has a chance, she can work on finishing mine. It’s a little embarrassing going on stage with a half finished tattoo.”

“If you didn’t insist on taking your shirt off every time, you wouldn’t have that problem, now would you? Why do I even bother? I mean, honestly, what’s the point of me even designing clothes for you if you’re just going to take them off anyway?”

Sacha just smirked.


End file.
